


Seafoam

by AdorabloodthirstyKitty



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9289457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorabloodthirstyKitty/pseuds/AdorabloodthirstyKitty
Summary: Mark was a drowning man, and Jack was both his dying breath and the water in his lungs, slowly but surely killing him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Alternate Title: **The Tide That Pulls Me Under**_  
>   
>  as with all of my other fics, this is FICTIONAL. I do not believe septiplier is real, or that it ever will be. I don’t want the boys seeing this, or their friends, or their girlfriends, etc. I love amy and signe and I respect the relationships Mark and Jack are in. I was actually unsure if I should post this one, but I put a lot of time into it and I liked how a lot of it turned out, so here it is. giant note over, enjoy your porn

Mark has always been afraid of the ocean.

As a child growing up surrounded by the beaches of Honolulu, as a teenager in landlocked Ohio, and even now, a grown adult in California. The ocean is a beautiful, terrifying place, and he'd never been as afraid of anything as he was of the ocean.

Not until now. Not until Jack.

With piercing eyes the color of frothing waves and stormy seas, and hair faded to seafoam green, he called to him. A siren that pulled him under before he even knew he was falling, drowning him in his scent and voice, the crescent moon smile that made him shine like starlight. Mark was completely and totally at his mercy, powerless to the pull of his full lips, the furrow of his brow. He was a drowning man, and Jack was both his dying breath and the water in his lungs, slowly but surely killing him.

Jack was Mark's siren, his song his smile and his laugh, the feeling of his lips against Mark's and the promise of everything Mark had never admitted he wanted.

And even as he felt himself sink further and fall harder, Mark came every time Jack called and gave him everything Jack asked of him. No matter how much or how little, and no matter what it did to Mark’s glass heart.

So when Jack's hand finds his in the hall of their hotel and his lips form quiet words, eyes shining and dark, Mark follows, pulled in by a gentle hand as powerful as the tide. And when Jack kisses him Mark draws it in like water, swept away by the soft pull of Jack's hands and the feeling of his lips moving against his own. When Jack pulls away it's with a smile, face tinted pink as he holds Mark prisoner with his soft, knowing smile, unlocking his hotel room and pulling Mark into another kiss that steals his breath with a soft gasp, heart putty in Jack's hand and mind fogged with the sound of their lips, the feeling of Jack’s hand skirting under his shirt as he pushes the door closed behind them.

It isn't the first time they've been drawn together like this, fitting together like puzzle pieces in the dark and quiet of a hotel room. It isn't the first time Jack’s hands have sent fizzling shocks up and down Mark’s spine with his touch, his lips leaving Mark aching for more. It is by no means the first time, and Mark prays it won't be the last, no matter how much his heart aches. No matter how many times his traitorous heart flips and sinks, fluttering like a bird only to fall to the soles of his shoes when he leaves again, sneaking away like a thief in the middle of the night. No matter how much it hurts to pretend this has never happened, he does it again and again, drinking in the feeling of Jack’s fingertips pressing bruises into his heart with everything he has, kissing him until he's left gasping for air.

Jack pulls back with hands laid flat against Mark's abdomen, the backs of his knees bumping the mattress as he smiles in the dim of the hotel room, the only light those of the city outside the wall of glass to the left of the too-big bed. Mark pauses to steady his thrashing heartbeat and catch his breath, forehead pressed to Jack's as his eyes land on the countless buildings and lights outside, the sky a dark, deep blue. He swallows past the pressure squeezing his chest when Jack leans forward enough to brush his lips against Mark's, pulling his attention to ocean eyes framed by long lashes, warm lips pulled up in a smile.

"If you don't want to do this, we don’t have to," he murmurs, Irish lilt quiet and warm in the centimeters between their lips. Mark lets himself meet those bright eyes head-on, searching for any sign of falsehood, any hint of a lie. He finds none.

His throat is tight as he shakes his head subtly, leaning in enough to catch Jack’s lips with his own as Jack’s hands leave his stomach to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him in closer, the skin he was idly touching left cold without his hands to light his skin up with tiny sparks. He wouldn't be able to deny Jack anything even if he didn't want this. He presses his lips more firmly to Jack's, tilting his head and catching his plump bottom lip between his teeth. He wonders if he would be able to tell Jack no if he wasn't so sincere, so kind and good that it leaves Mark wondering how he was lucky enough to earn a place in his life, blessed enough to be able to kiss the lips that smile brighter than any star. He wonders if this whole mess would hurt less if Jack wasn't so kind, but pushes the thought away, unwilling to travel down the rabbit hole of self loathing and mild depression, making his stomach churn until he's sick. He refuses to let the negative thoughts creep in now, focusing whole-heartedly on wrapping Jack up in his arms and holding him as close as he can, deepening the kiss as Jack falls back on the bed with a grin, pulling Mark with him as they plummet to the freshly-washed sheets below.

Electric hands begin their trek over the curves of Mark’s body, fingers carding through black hair and over the dip in the center of his back, brushing skin with feather-light touches as his lips steal every last bit of air from his lungs. Mark holds him too tight but not nearly tight enough, handling him like glass even as every instinct screams for closer proximity, bodies flush with no space between. If Mark could feel this always, Jack’s skin against his, the curve of his smile and the idle twirling of his fingers through his hair, he would die happily. He would want nothing more than Jack, his smile and his laugh and the twinkling of bright eyes. He pushes the thought back hard, wishing his mind would shut off and give him a moment of peace, an hour or so just to be with Jack with nothing holding him back. Jack pulls at the hair at the back of his head, tight enough to gain control but not enough to hurt, and Mark's head is pulled back with a low groan falling from his lips.

"I missed yeh so much today," Jack murmurs against his throat, lips moving down the curve of his Adam's apple toward his chest in a slow, steady line, the words hitting Mark like a physical punch to the chest, the air knocked out of his already breathless lungs. Whether it's from the murmured admission or the feeling of Jack’s lips moving down the arc of his neck, fingers curled possessively in his hair, Mark has no idea, but his hands hold Jack’s hips tighter, the feeling of Jack’s smile burned into his throat like a brand.

"I missed you, too," he breathes out, because of course he did. He misses Jack every second he's not with him, his absence sticking at the back of Mark’s mind and leaving him eagerly awaiting his return. He'd never admit as much to Jack, the thought leaving his blush just a little bit darker high in his cheeks. He drags his fingers up Jack’s sides, rucking up his t-shirt and sending a shiver down Jack’s spine. His hands come up to cup either side of Jack’s face as his kisses get softer, slower, meandering along the side of Mark’s neck. Jack pulls away enough to meet Mark’s eye, Mark's large hands holding his face gently, thumbs running over his cheekbones as Jack smiles up at him so soft and loving that Mark can feel an itch behind his eyes as he wills the tears building not to fall. He can't start crying, he doesn't want to worry Jack. Jack would stop everything in a heartbeat to find out what's wrong, to wipe the tears away with the pads of his thumbs and a soothing voice, holding Mark as he cries. Mark isn't about to waste what little time they have together getting emotional, so he pushes past the feeling of his throat closing up, pushes down the tears, and leans back in to kiss Jack, soft and reverent. He takes his time pulling away, eyes fluttering open to find Jack smiling even wider, ocean eyes trained on Mark's own soft gaze, eyes crinkling at the corners with the force of his smile. A gentle hand moves from soft black locks to frame Mark’s face, bright eyes appraising Mark’s features as a thumb runs along the stubble beside his mouth, pink and kiss-bruised.

Mark remains still, ignoring the building embarrassment at the way Jack stares and the instinct to curl away from his staring and hide, his heart fluttering up toward his throat at the softness of his smile.

"What?" he finally asks, voice a whisper in the breath of space between their lips. Jack’s smile tics up a little higher, his warm gaze meeting Mark's.

"Just happy to be with you," he replies, sending Mark’s heart in a tizzy as a smile etches it's way across his features.

"Me too."

Mark allows himself to stare for only a short handful of seconds, drinking in the serene smile brightening Jack's face before his heart can't take anymore, leaning up to press slow, soft kisses to dark lips.

"While I'd be more than happy to continue this sap-fest," Mark smirks, feeling the puff of a laugh against his lips as Jack's body shakes with silent laughter, "I think you brought me here for something else? Possibly involving less clothing?" he asks, hands skating down to toy with the pale sliver of exposed flesh sitting just above Jack's waistband.

"Possibly," Jack smirks, eyes like stars in the dim of the room, twinkling and bright, smile directed at Mark as his hands drift to the bottom of Mark’s shirt, a silent question that Mark answers with a smile and a quick kiss as he sits back on his heels. He's careful not to put his weight on him as he straddles Jack’s hips to pull the t-shirt off, Jack sitting up enough to do the same with his own in a quick, eager swipe of fabric before hauling Mark back down for another kiss.

Mark melts into the eager pull and push of Jack’s mouth, the way his hands rove over bare skin and pull Mark’s chest flush with his own. Mark matches Jack’s intensity with his own, huffing out a gasp as Jack's nails rake through his hair. Jack swallows Mark’s moans between deep kisses, the feeling of his hand in his hair and at his back intoxicating, the warmth between their bodies making Mark light-headed with want.

But through the haze of lust and the gradual removal of clothing, a deep, hollow ache returns to the center of Mark’s chest, a black hole behind his heart. He tries to ignore it, focusing single-mindedly on the task of pulling off Jack’s skinny jeans, mapping his body with a trail of light kisses. But still, the feeling remains, a darkness settling behind his ribs that makes him feel twice as heavy, his heart weighed down by this melancholy holding him captive. He takes deep breaths, head ducked to keep Jack from seeing his face as the last remaining clothes are discarded, skin meeting skin in slow, steady friction.

Mark hears Jack's quiet intake of breath, feels a hand fist in the hair at the back of his head as Jack moves against him. Mark lets out a shaky breath, finally tilting his head up enough to see Jack.

Pale skin is replaced by rosy pink, making his bright eyes that much brighter, blown wide and dark with lust as his eyes meet Mark’s. Jack gives a small tug at the hair still clutched in his grip, and Mark moves up, leaning in to capture dark lips again as he wills his mind to be still.

But even with Jack’s hands all over him, lips pressed to his and bodies flush, his mind is murky, bogged down by the thoughts he tries so desperately to banish. Thoughts of holding Jack outside of closed doors and locked hotel rooms, thoughts of waking early to kiss familiar pink lips and finally staying a full night in bed with him. His mind is full of unattainable daydreams, but soon the negative comes crashing in. The cold he feels every time he leaves Jack’s bed to hurry off to his own. The way they act around others, casual and friendly but never anything more. He can feel his throat closing up again, shutting his eyes tight as he steadies his breathing and wills the throb of his broken heart to lessen, the feeling of Jack’s hands running through his hair and his lips on his forehead finally bringing him back to the present. Jack looks down at him with a question in those endless pools, waiting for Mark to speak. But he can’t, not with tears threatening to fall and his throat choked, so he doesn't. He ignores the worry written in Jack's eyes and the pull of his brow and kisses him breathless.

Their kisses become shorter and hungrier, teeth biting lips pink and breaths mingling. Eventually Mark pulls back, kissing Jack fiercely before leaning up to the bedside table, Jack’s toiletries bag sitting beside the lamp in anticipation of this exact moment. He rummages in the dark before finally grabbing a small tube, popping the cap and pouring the cool substance over his fingers, Jack’s eyes trained solely on him.

Mark warms the slick substance as he huffs on it, surprising Jack when his hand wraps around him first, a sharp gasp being pulled from Jack before a low moan falls from dark lips. Mark tries desperately to focus on the arc of Jack’s neck as he tips his head back, the feeling of short nails raking down either side of his back as Mark works him. But still his mind lingers, the throb in his chest a constant, dull pain.

He's pulled from his own thoughts again by Jack’s voice, breathy and strained, calling his name, eyes screwed shut and hands gripping him tightly. Mark slows his hand to a slow crawl, Jack’s chest heaving as his eyes fall open again, staring up at the ceiling before blue meets brown, a hand coming up to cup Mark’s cheek.

He smiles through gasping breaths, a question still shining out from cobalt eyes.

_What's wrong?_

Mark ignores it, focusing on the curve of his smile, the way his mouth warps as Jack moans again with a flick of his wrist. Finally Mark moves his hand away, grabbing the bottle and pouring more onto his fingers, eyes trailing the bright green hair fanned out in a halo around Jack's head, the deep, dark depths of Jack’s eyes. Mark watches, enraptured, as he slowly pushes the first digit in, inch by inch, and the way Jack’s expression changes. Face slack and eyes fluttering closed, a deep moan echoing in the quiet and dark.

Mark focuses on prepping, pushing back any other thoughts as Jack’s soft gasps, quiet whines, and eventually deep moans fill the air, hands scrabbling for purchase around Mark’s shoulders as his lips work over the side of his pale throat, hitting the bundle of nerves with his fingers and making Jack’s whole body draw closer and pull him tighter to him, moaning loudly in the silence of the hotel room.

When Jack's sounds become breathier and more desperate Mark slows his pace, slowly pulling the digits out and reaching for a condom and the discarded bottle, making quick work of pulling it on and spreading the substance over himself, eyes trained on the rise and fall of Jack’s chest, hair a sweaty, damp mess strewn across his pillow and sticking to his forehead. Mark pauses, poised at Jack’s entrance as he waits for Jack to catch his breath, waits for a sign. Jack smiles up at him, still breathing hard, and nods, scooting closer as Mark rests his weight on the hands boxing Jack in under him and slowly inches in.

Mark moves at a crawl, pausing to breathe when he's completely sheathed in the other, Jack’s hands holding him close as Mark’s head falls forward, a long breath leaving him as he waits.

Jack pulls back more quickly than Mark is expecting before pulling himself flush to Mark again, the air being pushed out of both of them at the action. Mark swallows, bracing himself before pulling back and starting a rhythm, deep and slow. He focuses on the movement of his hips, the quiet, breathy moans Jack breathes into his ear. But as his rhythm changes, getting just a little faster, and Jack’s legs curl up to wrap around his lower back, pushing him deeper and holding him closer, his thoughts come crashing back.

He tries to push them back as the dull throb turns into a searing pain, throat closing up when Jack's breathy moan forms his name. Mark feels tears beading along his lashes, pooling at the corners, gritting his teeth as his hands shake, staying as silent as he can as he tries to pull himself back together.

His shoulders give one small jerk as a silent sob shakes his frame, hiding his face under Jack's chin while he tries to reign in his emotions. He doesn't realize Jack is looking at him, studying the curve of his shoulders and bowed head until a hand moves from his back to hold his chin, tilting Mark’s face up until watery brown eyes meet clear blue.

"What's wrong, love?" Jack asks, and that one word, that one single syllable, almost breaks Mark completely, heart chipping apart in his chest as another quiet sob shakes him.

"Shh, baby, what's wrong?" Jack asks, quiet and patient, thumb running along the thin skin under Mark’s eye, wiping away his tears.

Mark swallows, eyes leaking as he tries to find his voice, to reassure Jack that he's fine. But he's not, and now Jack knows it, though he doesn't know why. Mark thinks briefly about lying, dread clutching his heart and squeezing in a vice grip at the thought of telling Jack the truth, of spilling his heart out and leaving his soul bare. But as he looks into familiar blue eyes, brows tilted in worry and face so patient and open, Mark knows he would never be able to lie to Jack. Not about something as important as this. So he swallows again, blinking back tears and sniffling quietly before ducking his head the barest amount, hands twisting the sheets nervously in his grip as he stares down at Jack’s throat, unable to meet his eye as he finally speaks.

"I'm in love with you, Jack. I have been for a while. I didn't want to ruin what we have or make you uncomfortable, so I tried to hide it. It's just-" he stops, drawing in a shaky breath as tears begin to well up again, pushing past the tightness of his throat to continue.

"It's been getting harder and harder to hide. I just want to hold onto you and never let go, and kiss you awake in the mornings, and hold onto you at night. I want to do all of those sappy, romantic things couples do and I want to tell you how much I love you every day for the rest of my life. And I know how sudden this all is, I understand if you want to stop seeing each other like this or if you don't want to see me for a while, or at all. I won't hold it against you," Mark murmurs into Jack’s chest, terrified to look up and see Jack's expression. So they stay like that, Jack’s hands on Mark's back and in his hair, petting quietly, and Mark with head bowed, unable to meet his gaze.

Sooner than he expects, Jack tilts Mark’s chin up again with his fingers, wide eyes searching Mark's tear-stained face before leaning in to kiss him, so soft and chaste that it leaves Mark breathless.

Mark watches, dumbfounded, as Jack smiles up at him fondly, fingers still petting Mark’s hair.

"Mark, yeh have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that."

Mark’s heart lurches in his chest, confusion still coloring his face, eyes wide as Jack leans back in to kiss him again, speaking quietly between kisses.

"I was so fuckin afraid you didn't feel the same," he murmurs, lips brushing against Mark's with every word before leaning back in for another kiss.

"I thought that I'd never be so fuckin lucky to have you like this." Another kiss, Mark's mind wiped clean as Jack presses his words into his lips and kisses him stupid.

"I love you too, Mark. So fuckin much."

Mark breathes out a sigh, eyes still wide as Jack kisses him again and again, short, light brushes of lips. A tear falls, landing on Jack’s cheek and making him pull away to search Mark’s face, still blank with shock. Mark blinks, staring down at Jack with wide eyes and a slack jaw before his lips turn up in a smile, so bright and beautiful and genuine that it lights up the room. He huffs out a watery laugh, Jack’s grin growing as wide as Mark’s before Mark launches himself at Jack, wrapping his smaller frame up in a tight hug, his body shaking with teary laughter.

They stay like that for a long time, giving their hearts time to recover as they hold each other with wide smiles and endless kisses. Mark wraps Jack up in his arms, and for the first time ever, he stays like that all night long. He dreams of ocean eyes and starlight smiles, of calm seas that pull him through easy currents. And for once, he's not afraid to let himself be swept up by the tide.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is dedicated to icarus-descends and their amazing artwork as well as my sweet precious buslimpan who listened while I babbled and planned this thing out and who helped me feel confident enough to actually post it! love you so much dear, I hope you like it!!  
> based on a certain stream from one of my favorite artists, specifically [this](http://icarus-descends.tumblr.com/post/152787310986/thank-you-guys-for-joining-this-incredible-stream) comic, along with the song [Desire by Years & Years](https://youtu.be/6nJCF01b510) (which was on the stream!! the song mixed with the first sketches of the comic really inspired me)  
> songs I listened to on repeat while writing this were Desire by Years & Years and [The Hit by TWRP ft Ninja Sex Party](https://soundcloud.com/twrp/the-hit-feat-ninja-sex-party)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [flames from secret fireplaces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712997) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




End file.
